


a little less sixteen candles, a little more touch me (match and kerosene)

by piceuscelus



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Biting, Consensual Kink, Crying, Desperation, Established Relationship, Feminization, Incest Kink, Incest roleplay, Kink Discovery, M/M, Mentioned Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Mild Pain Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Nicknames, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Premature Ejaculation, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay, Virginity Kink, Virginity Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27639211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piceuscelus/pseuds/piceuscelus
Summary: “You’ve never said anything about – ”“You’ve nevercalledme that before.”
Relationships: Eskel/Lambert (The Witcher)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 133





	a little less sixteen candles, a little more touch me (match and kerosene)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dijkstra (Radonis)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Radonis/gifts).



> don't @ me in the comments if you read this despite the tags clearly stating the contents and ignored them. 
> 
> ( _do_ @ me if i missed a tag, though.)
> 
> for dijkstra. you know what you did, you fucking menace.

It happens on complete accident.

They’re more or less alone – Geralt is down in the dungeons doing…something, Eskel isn’t really sure, and Vesemir is out dealing with some forktails getting a little too frisky with the local deer population. So, they’re as _alone_ as they’re ever going to get during the winter, and they’re – well, bickering. Because it’s what they _do._

“There is no way you could have – ”

“Look, just because not all of us look like we were carved out of the mountainside – ”

“I do _not_ look like a carving, Lamb – ”

“ _You do,_ but that’s not the point.”

Lambert tosses a little piece of carved wood at Eskel’s head. Eskel catches it and finds that it’s a tiny, rather detailed carving of a fiend cock. He rolls his eyes and tosses it back.

“What _is_ the point, then?”

“That I can absolutely brute-force a hunt like you and Geralt can! Just because I’m an inch shorter, a _little_ less broad, and a bit younger – ”

“More than a bit,” Eskel chuckles. “C’mon, you’re our _baby brother_ , don’t you know that by now?”

Eskel notices the hitch in Lambert’s breath first, and the widening of his pupils second. He’s not sure what he noticed third; the spike of arousal in Lambert’s scent, or how red his face suddenly goes.

It takes less than a couple of seconds for him to figure out the trigger, and his stomach swoops.

“Lambert,” he says, slowly, and Lambert makes a quiet, uncomfortable noise. Eskel watches as he adjusts his legs, clearly working _around_ something. “You’ve never said anything about – ”

“You’ve never _called_ me that before,” Lambert grits out, going even redder, and oh.

_Oh._

Eskel takes a deep, steadying breath. “Well,” he says, slowly, and Lambert makes that same uncomfortable noise from before.

“I – it’s weird, isn’t it,” he mutters miserably, and Eskel can’t help but laugh at that. Before Lambert can take it wrong, he’s out of his chair and pulling Lambert out of his by the neck of his shirt, until they’re pressed together and Eskel can tip his head to mouth at Lambert’s ear.

He makes an educated guess.

“’Course it’s not weird, baby brother,” he murmurs, voice low and breathy. “You just want me to take care of you, don’t you?”

Lambert _whimpers,_ high and broken and vulnerable the way he usually only is when Eskel has been working at him for a while, and _fuck,_ if Eskel wasn’t already into this before, he _certainly_ is now.

* * *

It takes a _whole lot_ of willpower, but Eskel manages to calm down just long enough to talk about this with Lambert – for a certain value if _talking about it,_ at least – and then he’s dragging the youngest of their little pack to a room with a proper bed. Fuck whose room it is, he doesn’t _care_ right now.

“Look at you, baby brother,” he murmurs, half-growl, as he starts stripping Lambert out of his clothes. Lambert fumbles to help, but mostly gets in the way, fingers trembling at he stares at Eskel, wide-eyed and bright red. “So desperate for it, you’d think you’d never done this before.”

It just sort of slips out. Eskel isn’t really thinking about what’s coming out of his mouth – stopped thinking about it past making sure Lambert was up for this kind of game – so he doesn’t realize what he’s done until Lambert arches toward him like he’s being pulled and _whines,_ a wet spot spreading rapidly across the front of his trousers.

Eskel sort of loses track of what’s happening for a second, because Lambert _can’t_ have – he hasn’t been a quick-shot like that since his first year on the Path, since the first time they –

Somehow, this realization hits him even _harder_ than the ‘baby brother’ thing, and he abandons his attempt to get Lambert out of his clothes with the clothes themselves intact. All of them can sew, it’ll be fine.

“You _haven’t,_ have you,” he hisses, and he should _really_ stop, talk this out, too, because this is _a lot,_ but Lambert just whimpers and mumbles back, “ _Please,_ wanted to wait for _you_ – ” and the brain between his ears is no longer in charge.

“Saving yourself for me?” Eskel asks, and thrills at the little shocked squeak that Lambert lets out when his trousers and small clothes shred under Eskel’s fingers. “Wanted your _brother_ to be your first, baby?”

“Y-yeah,” Lambert chokes out. “Yeah, Eskel, big brother, _please._ ”

Eskel shudders, grip going bruise-tight on Lambert’s hips for a second before he manages to wrestle back _some_ control. “Fuck,” he hisses. “Fuck, baby brother, going to _ruin_ you. You’re never gonna want anyone else.”

“I don’t,” Lambert says, voice trembling. His eyes are wider than Eskel has ever seen them, sparkling with unshed tears, his pupils eclipsing the gold of his iris. “Don’t want anyone else, just, just _you._ ”

Eskel practically throws him onto the bed – Geralt’s, from the smell, but really, he _doesn’t fucking care_ – and follows him down, caging him in with the ease of practice.

See, the thing is that Lambert really _isn’t_ that much smaller than them. He’s a bit thinner, not quite as broad in the shoulders, and yeah, an inch or so shorter than them, but he’s still all _Witcher._ Broad compared to a human, tall, stronger than even the strongest men could hope to be. But they’ve been doing this for a long time, and Eskel is also all Witcher _plus some,_ and he’s learned how to make Lambert feel dainty.

Because Lambert likes feeling dainty, no matter how much he blusters outside of the bedroom, and really – Eskel maybe should have seen some of this coming.

“Feel so good, baby brother,” he rumbles, right into Lambert’s throat. “ _Gods,_ baby, gonna take such good care of you.”

“Please, _please,_ big brother, want you so bad,” Lambert breathes shakily, and Eskel just has to kiss him.

And _fuck,_ if it doesn’t feel just like their first time together. Lambert’s acting all shy and fumbling and reluctant to touch, and Eskel wants nothing more than to gather him up and soothe him through it, exactly like he did back then.

Just with a bit of a twist, this time.

“Yeah I’m sure you do, don’t you?” Eskel husks out, shifting them up so he can reach toward the nightstand, knowing there’s oil there. “Probably so desperate for it, if you’ve been _waiting_ – really been waiting just for me?”

“ _Yeah,_ ” Lambert gasps. “Just you, always been just you, _please,_ Kel, want – ”

“Shh,” Eskel hushes him entirely because if he hears another word in that weak, breathy voice, after that _fucking_ nickname that Lambert _never_ uses unless he’s absolutely _gagging_ for it – he’ll just lose it. He’ll combust on the spot and frankly, if he doesn’t get his dick in Lambert tonight it will be a fucking _crime._ “Give you everything you want baby, just gotta get you ready for me. Want to make sure you feel good, baby brother.”

“It will, it _will,_ please, Kel.”

“Fuck.” Eskel sits up and realizes suddenly that he’s still mostly dressed while he’s completely stripped Lambert. A thrill like lightning runs through him. “ _Fuck,_ baby brother, look at you. Look so fucking slutty like this.”

“ _Kel._ ”

He ends up with probably too much oil on his fingers, but it doesn’t _matter,_ because Lambert is fucking whining for it, jolting like he’s been shocked at the first touch against his hole. Eskel grits his teeth and forces himself to go slow.

After all, this is Lambert’s _first time._ He’s not going to ruin that by rushing.

He starts with tiny little brushes, teasing touches that make Lambert whimper and jerk against Eskel’s hold on his hips. Despite the wriggling, Lambert eventually relaxes down into it, still gasping and whimpering with each touch but not tensing against it. Eskel takes that as his cue to move on. The first little bit of pressure makes Lambert keen, cock bobbing as he flexes against the touch. It’s just that for a long moment, the tiniest bit of pressure on the rim of Lambert’s hole, until he’s panting and _begging_ for it, even as he squirms.

“Kel, _Kel,_ big brother, please, need it, need _you._ ”

Eskel hisses and turns his head to bite at Lambert’s inner thigh. It’s a hard bite, just short of breaking skin, and Lambert’s cock jerks so hard the spurt of precome that comes with it splatters over Eskel’s cheek. He holds on, jaw tense, until the muscle in Lambert’s thigh stops jumping, and then he lets go at the same time he pushes the very tip of his pinky inside Lambert.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Lambert’s leg kicks out, but it’s easy for Eskel to dodge the flailing limb and then shift to trap it. He’s straddling one leg, the other hooked over his shoulder, one arm against the bed between them and the other wrapped over Lambert’s hips to keep him still. Even with so much of him trapped by Eskel’s strength and bulk he keeps _wiggling,_ panting and seemingly unable to control himself.

“Feel good, baby brother?” Eskel wriggles his finger a little bit deeper and Lambert _sobs,_ cock jerking.

“ _Yes,_ yes, _please,_ ” he pants, back arching as if he could force more inside, but Eskel’s arm stops his hips from moving, and he whimpers brokenly. “Kel, want _more._ ”

“I know you do, baby, look at you. Taking it so well already, baby brother, but I don’t want to hurt you.”

Lambert just makes a desperate, defeated sound and tosses his head back. Eskel licks over the purpling bite on his thigh and starts moving his pinky, little in-out jerks that barely even count as movement. Tugging gently at Lambert’s rim, petting at the inner muscle, until Lambert is practically breathless with want, begging wordlessly. Even then, he only sinks the whole of his pinky inside and starts again, in-out, gentle tugging, little, wriggling movements.

“ _Kel,_ Kel, _please._ Please, big brother, need _more,_ I can take it, I swear _._ ”

“Oh?” Eskel asks, a mean edge in his voice that makes Lambert’s cock twitch. “You said you were waiting for me – but how much were you actually _waiting,_ baby brother? Did you do this to yourself and imagine it was me? Do you really _know_ you can take more?”

Lambert’s cheeks have returned to the tomato red, and those tears are starting to fall now. “Y-yes,” he murmurs, voice so small Eskel nearly misses it under the thunder of his own heart.

“What was that?” he asks, twisting his wrist and shoving his pinky inside Lambert quickly. Lambert _squeaks,_ eyes slamming shut as he shudders.

“Yeah, I – _yes,_ ” he cries out.

“Yes _what?_ ”

“I – I – touched myself,” he pants. “F-fingered myself open. Wanted it to be you so _badly,_ Kel, wasn’t _enough_ by myself.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” Eskel sneers slightly. “Tell me about it. How many fingers did you get inside yourself, hm? Did you come? Did you moan my name while you did it?”

Lambert whimpers, trying once more to squirm, but getting exactly nowhere like before. Eskel just keeps fucking him with his pinky, moving a little faster but nothing more.

“I got – I – _fuck –_ three,” Lambert gasps after a moment. “Three.”

Eskel chuckles. “Do you think you could take three of _my_ fingers, baby brother?” He slides his hand up Lambert’s belly for a moment, plucking at his nipples before he moves back down, and Lambert shudders so hard he shakes Eskel, too.

“I – I don’t _know,_ ” Lambert whines. “ _Want them._ ”

“Oh, I know that,” Eskel purrs. “I can feel how needy you are, baby brother, practically trying to suck me in. All tight and hot – you’ll feel _incredible_ on my cock.”

Lambert makes a breathy sound, halfway between a whimper and a keen. Eskel just grins, turning his head and sucking some more at that bruise on Lambert’s thigh. It’s got to hurt, but Lambert just moans, his whole body rolling _toward_ Eskel.

He keeps up with his pinky for a moment, reveling in the way that Lambert pants and whines for more, mostly wordless. But soon enough his own patience runs out, and he slips his pinky out just to replace it with his pointer finger. Lambert whines, head thrashing, and Eskel grins. He goes slow with this finger, too, tiny little movements that have Lambert shivering and whimpering for more as he struggles against the hold Eskel has on him.

“Doing so good, baby brother, look at you,” he murmurs while he works.

“Kel,” Lambert gasps. “More, _more,_ please.”

“Be patient,” Eskel scolds lightly. He shifts a little to press a kiss to the base of Lambert’s cock, feeling the way it throbs along with his heartbeat. “You’ve been so good, saving yourself for me. I won’t hurt you. I don’t hurt the things that are mine, baby brother, and after this, you’ll _belong_ to me.”

Lambert makes a breathless little sound, almost a squeak, and his cock flexes, tapping against Eskel’s face. Eskel smiles and works his finger a little deeper, crooking it up as he does.

“That what you wanted, baby brother? Wanted to be _mine?_ ” The tip of his finger brushes Lambert’s prostate and he wails, hands tearing into the sheets. There will probably be holes later, but Eskel will fix them if Geralt gets mad. “Yeah, that’s what you wanted, I can tell. Look at you, all wrecked on just one finger – fuck, you’ll be a mess when I get my cock into you. Begging for it and crying.”

“ _Eskel,_ ” Lambert keens. “Kel, big brother, _please._ ”

“I know, baby,” Eskel murmurs. He moves a little faster, tugs a little more at Lambert’s rim just to listen the way he goes all breathless for it. “Fuck, you look so good like this.”

And he _does._ He’s red from his hairline to his nipples, lip swollen from where he’s been biting at it, tear tracks drying on his face, and his cock is throbbing hard and nearly purple against his belly. Eskel can see him shaking, too, where he’s gripping the sheets, can feel it where he has him pinned.

It’s always a rush, to see Lambert taken down like this, but this is – something else entirely.

“Sweet baby brother,” Eskel murmurs, ducking forward to suck sloppily at the base of Lambert’s cock. Lambert whines, hips jerking as much as they can in Eskel’s hold, and Eskel moves down to his balls.

The sound Lambert makes at the feeling of his tongue is hardly even human, high and breathless and desperate, and Eskel grins. It takes a bit of shifting to get comfortable so he can properly finger him and suck at his balls, but it’s well worth it for the way Lambert shudders and whimpers.

“ _Kel,_ Kel, fuck.”

Eskel doesn’t bother responding, instead just teasing a second finger next to the first. When he starts to press it in, Lambert starts to babble, hiccupping and sobbing between words when he can even catch the breath for that. Heat settles down Eskel’s spine.

He slowly works him open for long moments as Lambert tries and fails to squirm, back to crying in between wordless, breathless moans. He shoves a third finger in alongside the others before he pulls back at all, and even then he doesn’t go far, nosing up over Lambert’s cock before sucking sloppily at the base, then the vein along the bottom.

Like this, he can see straight up Lambert’s body, clear to his face when his head isn’t tossed back as he thrashes; he’s still flushed, almost clear to his belly, now, chest heaving as Eskel gently pries him open.

“Good, baby brother, doing so well,” Eskel praises. He ducks back down and sucks Lambert’s balls into his mouth again, rolling them around on his tongue and feeling the way Lambert jolts with each movement of his mouth.

“ _Kel,_ ” Lambert finally gasps after a small eternity, voice broken and reedy. Eskel chuckles, then moans when the vibration makes Lambert’s cock jump. “Oh, fuck, big brother, please, please, want you.”

Eskel hums and spreads his fingers apart, forcing Lambert open wide just to hear him lose his breath on a sob. “Think you’re ready, baby brother?” He gives a slow, pointed thrust, the tips of his fingers grazing Lambert’s prostate. “Think you can really take me?”

“ _Want,_ ” Lambert gasps, desperate. When Eskel looks up from where his fingers are sunk into Lambert’s body, he finds the other Witcher looking at him, eyes wide and glassy with tears. “Kel, Kel – big brother, _please,_ want you be yours, just yours, _please –_ ”

“Beg so pretty, baby brother,” Eskel rumbles, and finally pulls his fingers back. Lambert jerks, moan almost pained as he clenches around nothing, but Eskel ignores all of that shift up and blanket Lambert’s body with his own.

Lambert’s legs catch naturally at his waist, meaning his thighs spread wide when Eskel leans forward and brackets his head on his elbows. It leaves him pinned on his back, nowhere to go really unless he squirms up, toward the head of the bed, but Eskel’s hands at his hair, his jaw, would stop that.

“Look at you,” Eskel murmurs, watching at Lambert’s eyes roll and flutter when he grinds his hips forward, pressing Lambert’s cock to his belly. His clothes are probably too rough, but Lambert just whimpers for it and humps back. “Look so fucking good, baby brother, want to fucking _ruin_ you. Keep you caught on my cock, just fill you up whenever I want.”

“Ah, _ah,_ please!” Lambert cries out, arms reaching up to wrap tightly around Eskel’s waist as his legs tighten around his hips and thighs. “Kel, please, big brother, _please._ ”

“You’d let me, wouldn’t you?” Eskel continues, shifting to balance on one arm. He quickly fumbles his cock out of his pants – even if being totally dressed with Lambert naked beneath him _wasn’t_ scorchingly hot, he’s too impatient to change it _now_ – and then grabs the oil again, pouring some over his cock and more down Lambert’s balls.

Lambert makes a sharp, startled little noise at the feeling of it, and then makes it again when Eskel smears his hand through the mess and pushes some of it into Lambert’s hole.

“Gods, you’re so open for me, baby brother,” Eskel murmurs, watching as his fingers sink in and shuddering at the wet sound it makes. “Open and wet, gonna take my cock so well, like you’re _made_ for it.”

“ _Kel._ ”

“You like that?” Eskel asks, shifting again so he can line up his cock. Lambert jolts and sobs and arches, back curving sharply. “Like it when I talk about how cock hungry you are, even on your first time? _Fuck,_ Lambert.” The first thrust is a smooth, slick slide all the way, and Lambert wails for it, leaving deep furrows on Eskel’s back with his nails.

“More, _more,_ big brother, please, fuck me,” he babbles, head thrashing. Eskel growls and balances back onto his elbows, threading one hand through Lambert’s hair to grip and pull. Lambert’s eyes fly open and his tears spill over again, but his mouth is dropped open and he’s slurring out little, wordless pleas as Eskel settles.

“So godsdamned wet and open for me, baby brother,” Eskel snarls, ducking down to lick up the sweat and tears from Lambert’s throat. “Maybe I should call you baby _sister,_ hm? If you’re going to be so easy to fuck like this….”

Lambert _screams,_ and Eskel pulls back just in time to see his face twist into rapture as he comes untouched _again._ Eskel can’t help the way his hips jerk and doesn’t try to, just rutting messily into Lambert’s body as he wails and clenches around him like a vice.

“So fucking good, baby brother, fucking perfect coming on my cock like this,” he rumbles, half-slurred. “ _Fuck,_ feel so good.”

“Want – ” Lambert gasps, almost more of a sob. He’s squirming but not away, just in general, seemingly unable to control his limbs. “Want you to fill me up, big brother, please, wanna be so full of you I can taste it. Please, big brother? _Please?_ ”

“Sweet fucking Melitele,” Eskel growls, using his grip on Lambert’s hair to yank him into a messy, vicious kiss. “Yeah, baby brother, give you anything you want. Gonna fuck you full, really make you mine, hm?”

“Yeah, _yeah,_ please,” Lambert pants, right up against Eskel’s mouth, and he has to kiss him again. It’s a biting thing, more teeth and spit than anything else, but Lambert whimpers for it and goes all but limp, hips tilting up to let Eskel sink just a little bit deeper inside.

“Fuck,” Eskel hisses. “So good, baby brother, such a pretty, perfect little slut for me.” He fumbles onto one arm and reaches between them, heedless of the mess, and fondles Lambert’s balls, massaging at Lambert’s cockhead with a thumb. “Want to feel you come on my cock again, baby brother. It feels good, doesn’t it? My cock ruining you when you’re all sensitive – does it hurt?”

Lambert nods frantically, tears coming faster, but the smell of him doesn’t change, nothing sour, just the sweet-spice of arousal. “Yeah, yeah,” he repeats, as if it’s a mantra. “H-hurts, fuck, Kel, big brother, _please._ ”

Eskel makes a noise that’s more animal than man and ducks down to bite at Lambert’s throat. He’s not gentle, teeth sinking in until he can taste blood, hips rutting artlessly as he rubs cruelly at Lambert’s cock until he seizes all over again.

“Kel, Kel, _Kel,_ ” Lambert keens, body juddering as he comes again. Eskel just presses as deep as he can get, enough that he knows if they were in a different position he’d be able to see his cock through Lambert’s belly, and keeps rubbing at his cock, drawing out the frantic clenching around him until he tips over, too.

“Yeah, just like that,” he slurs deliriously as he pumps Lambert full. “Take all of it, baby brother, you’re fucking _made_ for this. Gonna keep you open and wet for me all the time, just fuck you whenever I want. Maybe I will call you baby sister instead, make you into my own personal little whore.”

Lambert makes a high noise, cracked through, and judging by the way he clenches down on Eskel’s cock and shudders, comes _again._

“Fuck, _yes,_ ” Eskel growls. The contractions of Lambert’s body pull him over again, soon enough to hurt but he doesn’t _care,_ fucking his spend as deep into Lambert’s guts as he can it with visceral, animal pleasure. “You like that, don’t you – you’re my baby brother, _mine,_ but you like being baby sister, too, don’t you?”

“ _Kel,_ ” Lambert wails, and Eskel just slides his arms down and gathers him up, until they’re plastered together, his cock still buried in Lambert’s ass.

“Lamb,” Eskel murmurs, finally starting to surface from the feral place his orgasm and that game sent him. “Word?”

Lambert shudders from head to toe and shakes his head, pressing his face into Eskel’s throat. “No,” he mumbles. “Fuck – fuck, say it again.”

“Hm? Tell me what you want, baby brother.”

“Other one,” Lambert gasps, nails digging in again where he’s clinging. “The – _please,_ Kel.”

Eskel practically purrs, and files all of this away for later. He’s got _ideas,_ but not for right now. “Baby sister,” he murmurs. “So fucking perfect for me. Gonna sit here and keep my cock warm like a good girl?”

Lambert makes a sharp noise. “Yes, please, please?”

“Whatever you want, baby sister, been so fucking good for me.” Eskel carefully rolls to his back, so that Lambert settles over his chest, still tight and slick and hot around Eskel’s cock where he’s just starting to soften. “Yeah, good girl, there you go.”

He has a fleeting thought about Geralt, but pushes it aside. If he finds them like this, well, it won’t be the first time.

Besides, he knows how damn good Lambert looks all fucked out like this.

Geralt should be _grateful,_ if they’re still here when he comes back up.


End file.
